


Of course

by Polyhexian



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Good ending timeline, M/M, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Suicidal Ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: "Aren't you going to do something?" he asked.Cyclonus looked up, a bit startled. "Hm?""Cyclonus, aren't you going to help him?" Tailgate repeated.
Relationships: Cyclonus & Tailgate & Whirl (Transformers), Cyclonus/Tailgate (Transformers)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 81





	Of course

Tailgate kicked his legs under his seat, scrolling down on his datapad as he read the book Rewind had given him. He'd asked for something fun this time, no more tragedies or dry historical dramas. Something with adventure. He was really starting to get into it, too, when a noise drew his attention upward. 

"That's a load of slag!" Whirl yelled, as he slung a claw across the bar, sending a plethora of glassware clattering to the ground, where it smashed. Tailgate cringed at the destruction as all optics in the bar turned toward him. Whirl continued to yell about something as Magnus moved toward him with a sigh. Tailgate looked toward Cyclonus, who hadn't even looked up. 

"Aren't you going to do something?" he asked.

Cyclonus looked up, a bit startled. "Hm?"

"Cyclonus, aren't you going to help him?" Tailgate repeated, nodding towards Whirl, who was gesturing threateningly at Magnus, waving his claws in an uncontrolled way that suggested he was _really_ drunk. 

"What?" Cyclonus blinked, "Ultra Magnus does not need my help."

"Not Magnus," Tailgate insisted, a bit annoyed, "Whirl. Aren't you guys friends? Shouldn't you help him before he gets brigged again?" 

"Friends?" Cyclonus asked, then looked at Whirl, "We aren't friends."

Tailgate stared at him. "Yes you are. You ask him for advice and stuff."

"We have a mutual respect. That's not friendship."

"How is that not friendship?" 

Cyclonus set his mouth in a grim line, and they both watched as Magnus grappled the irate helicopter, dragging him toward the door while he kicked and screamed, thrashing like an animal. The bar erupted into jeers and clapping, calling after him as he was taken away. Tailgate's fuel tank flipped and he turned off his datapad, pushing his drink away. 

"What?" Cyclonus asked, sounding genuinely confused. 

"You should have done something," Tailgate murmured, "that was humiliating."

"That happens to him twice a week. He brings it on himself." 

Tailgate folded his arms on the table and laid his chin in his hands, feeling unsettled. "You really don't think you're friends?" 

"I don't think Whirl would consider us friends either," Cyclonus said dubiously, "I don't think he's ever had a friend in his life."

The door reopened and Ultra Magnus returned without any fanfare, crossing back to his original seat across from Rodimus by the wall. 

"He didn't get brigged at least," Tailgate sighed. Magnus had probably just let him go in the hallway; he would have been gone much longer if he'd had to go all the way to the brig. 

"A blessing. He must have calmed down somewhat." 

Tailgate looked down at his hands for a moment, then began scooting out of his seat. "I'm going after him."

"What?" Cyclonus asked, surprised, "Why?" 

"Someone should make sure he makes it back to his room okay and doesn't just sleep in the hallway again," Tailgate responded, "And obviously you aren't going to do it." 

"Hm," Cyclonus furrowed his brow in a way that suggested confusion, "I'll come with you, if you think it should be done." 

Cyclonus followed behind him as Tailgate pushed open the doors to Swerve's and looked both ways down the hall, but saw Whirl in neither direction.

"His room is this way, if that's where he would have headed," Cyclonus said, passing to his side and taking the corridor to the left. 

"Well, let's hope he's had the sense to go the right way," Tailgate sighed.

"Do you really think this is so important?" Cyclonus asked, "Whirl can take care of himself. He's been doing it a long time."

"Just because he can doesn't mean he should have to," Tailgate told him, "And more importantly, I think you guys _are_ friends, even if you want to pretend you aren't, and it's kind of shitty to treat your friends like that."

"You think so?"

"I think so."

"Hm."

Tailgate perked up when he heard the unmistakable footsteps of a drunken helicopter stumbling about the hallway, and quickened his pace, turning the last corner. Whirl's name was on his vocalizer, but died when he came into view, leaning one shoulder against the airlock door, optic gazing out through the fishbowl to the far window and space beyond. The activation panel had been turned on.

"What are you doing?" Cyclonus asked, when Tailgate failed to respond, and Whirl wrenched himself away from the wall, stammering and swearing, clearly surprised.

"Nothin'! I ain't doin' fuckin' nothin'!" Whirl yelled, pointing at them in some unspoken accusation, "What, is fucking loiterin' a crime now, too? Sorry I don't _walk_ fast enough for y'all now, I'm _going_ , now leave me alone!"

"Whirl!" Tailgate said, breaking his reverie as Whirl whipped around and began to stomp away, but Cyclonus put a hand on his shoulder as he moved forward.

"He doesn't want us to bother him," Cyclonus advised, "We should leave him be."

"Primus, Cyc, respecting boundaries is one thing," Tailgate said, shaking his head, "This is something else."

He shook him off and jogged after Whirl, planting himself in front of him. Whirl stopped, wobbling, eyeing the minibot suspiciously.

"The hell do you want?" he spat.

"Whirl," Tailgate said, holding his palms up placatingly, "Are you alright?" 

"What kind of question is that?" Whirl squinted at him, "Why are you in my way?"

"Why are you messing with the airlock?" 

Whirl's helm moved back, alarmed, "None of your beeswax. Move."

"I will," Tailgate promised, "When you tell me what you were doing with the airlock."

"Seriously, if you don't move, I'll move you."

"Tailgate-" Cyclonus interjected. 

"Cyclonus, aren't you worried about him at _all_?" Tailgate balked, "Don't you care?"

"Of course he doesn't care, pipsqueak," Whirl snapped, "Your boyfriend would never be happier than watching me get sucked out into the fuckin vacuum. Now, seriously, I'm going to bed." He finally used his size and longer legs to simple maneuver around the frustrated minibot and continue down the hall. 

"You really think that?" Cyclonus asked, and even though his voice was much quieter than it had been, the hurt in it was strong enough to stop whirl in his tracks. The question hung in the air between them, making the hallway feel crowded, even with just the three of them.

"Am I wrong?" Whirl said, finally, without turning around.

"Is… is that what you were doing?" Cyclonus asked, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Oh, don't sound so concerned," Whirl laughed, "I wasn't gonna fuckin do anything. I never do." He waved a claw in the air, stumbled, and then leaned one arm against the nearest wall, still giggling, "I'm just gonna fuckin- you know, just gonna sit in the airlock for awhile and think about it, daydream, and all, or the incinerator, or whatever, you know, indulge the fantasy, and then I'm gonna go home and sleep it off, no harm, no foul. You ain't gonna get in _trouble_ for not _stopping_ me."

"Whirl…" Tailgate said, quietly. 

"Just a bunch of nothing," Whirl mumbled, pushing himself away from the wall, and resuming his walk away, "Just go away." 

Tailgate took a step forward, but before he could take another Cyclonus had rushed past him, grabbed Whirl by the arm and spun him around. He didn't say anything, but his mouth hung open, lips parted as if he might find the words, optics searching. 

"What?" Whirl said, eventually, awkwardly, "You wanna fight about it? Say so."

"I'm sorry," Cyclonus said. 

Whirl blinked at him. "Excuse me?" 

"I have been a bad friend to you," Cyclonus said, in earnest, "And I'm sorry."

"Uh," Whirl flicked his optic over to Tailgate uncomfortably, "Is this some kind of bit I'm not in on?" 

"Can we walk you back to your room?" Tailgate asked, given the opportunity to speak again, "Just to make sure you get back okay?"

Whirl looked between them, a little off kilter and confused, "Uh. I guess." 

Cyclonus maneuvered his arm beneath Whirl's to help support him, slung over one shoulder, and Tailgate skittered forward to walk on his other side.

"Y'all are being weird," Whirl muttered, "I don't get it."

"That's my fault," Cyclonus said, somberly.

"That doesn't make sense. That doesn't make sense as an answer."

"I know," said Cyclonus, softly, "I'll do better."


End file.
